


Serendipity

by silverfoxflower



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, First Time, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why are you still in bed?" Kate demands, kicking at a corner of Clint’s mattress, which, <i>rude</i>. Why were girls and cats always so <i>rude</i> to him.</p>
<p>"Lucky turned into a cat," Clint says, burying his head in the pillow. "I’m hoping that if I wake up tomorrow, he’ll be back to normal."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

Clint’s half asleep and half hungover but he’s preeeeetty sure that when he fell asleep, Lucky had been a _dog_. 

"What _are_ you?" he asks the meowing black thing - cat, his sputtering brain provides, _cat_ \- in his kitchen. 

The cat plops its butt on his counter and blinks at him judgmentally. Lucky never blinked at him judgmentally. Lucky thought Clint was a god if he fed him leftover pizza. 

"Well I hope you eat dog food," Clint says, "Because that’s all we got." 

—

The cat ends up jumping on his kitchen table and eating his eggs. Clint tries to shoo him off with a fork but that fails spectacularly.

It’s 11 AM and Clint has already lost his food to a strange cat that’s not even his. This has turned out to be a spectacular day.

—

There’s a strange dog following her. 

Natasha circles around the block again, groceries swinging from her arms, and yep, the yellow lab with the patched-up ear is still following her. Slowly, Natasha turns the corner, then places her bags on the ground and waits by the brick wall. When the yellow lab pops his head around the corner, she grabs him by his collar. 

"Who are you working for?" she demands. She has her hand up on instinct, but she puts it down quickly because she’s not going to punch a _dog_. The yellow lab doesn’t seem perturbed by her tone, wagging his tail happily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Natasha looks around her quickly before glancing down at the tag on his collar. 

Lucky, it reads. The tag is scuffed up and old, nothing more than a dented piece of metal. Natasha feels along the inside of his worn collar, then along Lucky’s floppy ears. If it had been implanted with a GPS, it wasn’t in any of the obvious locations. 

"Maybe you are just a stray," Natasha says, as Lucky starts snuffling at her wrist. "But too bad for you, I have already taken in a stray. And I don’t think she would be too happy to see you." 

—

"Why are you still in bed?" Kate demands, kicking at a corner of Clint’s mattress, which, _rude_. Why were girls and cats always so _rude_ to him.

"Lucky turned into a cat," Clint says, burying his head in the pillow. "I’m hoping that if I wake up tomorrow, he’ll be back to normal." 

"Oh my god, Clint," he can hear her rolling her eyes. He’s deaf in one ear but he can hear her rolling her eyes. “Lucky didn’t turn into a cat. You left the window to the fire escape open.”

"It was hot,” Clint whined, pushing himself up on his elbow as Kate tosses a shirt at his face. “That smells.” Clint says, throwing it to the side of his bed. “Gimme another.” 

"Lucky ran away," Kate says patiently, getting him a relatively cleaner shirt and throwing a ball of jeans and socks at his bare chest for good measure. 

"Lucky would never run away," Clint scoffs, "Clearly he’s been kidnapped. And that evil cat is a clue." 

—

The dog follows her home. And when she tries to shut it outside her door, he sits down right outside and whines loudly. Loud enough to make Natasha cringe and worry about bothering her neighbors. 

She opens the door again. “You have a family,” she says, blocking Lucky’s way as he tries to squeeze past her. “Shoo. Go to them. Shoo!” 

Lucky looks up at her with big, brown eyes. It’s never worked before and it’s not about to now. Natasha glares back at him. They have a staring contest for five minutes before Lucky sneezes. 

"Okay, I’ll take you on as a client," Natasha says, "We’ll find your family and you’ll leave me alone. I’ll even wave my usual fee." 

Lucky cocks his head.

"Just give me a minute to get my stuff," Natasha says, and shuts the door. Lucky’s whine starts from the minute the lock clicks and doesn’t end until she’s out in the hallway again, looking at him with an exasperated expression and a duffle bag over her shoulder. 

She’s gotten so into the habit of talking to Liho that she forgets sometimes how stupid other animals really are. 

—

"287 black cats registered in the city of New York," Kate says, chewing on her hot dog. Clint was eating a hot dog bun, resentfully. He’d shoved the meat through the bars of the cat’s kennel because, you know, a nice guy, but the cat had shoved it right out and it had landed in the dirt. Fucking cats. 

"It doesn’t even have a tag," Clint says, "Maybe it’s a stray. Maybe it’s a _message_." 

"I dunno," Kate says, poking her fingers through the bars of the kennel. The cat presses against them, purring. "Doesn’t the mafia leave, like, bloody horse heads as messages?" 

"It doesn’t have to be the mafia, Kate," Clint says, though it’s probably the tracksuit mafia. "I have lots of enemies. I’m a pretty popular guy." 

As if to oppose that statement, the kennel begins to yowl. 

"Stop that," Clint says, as a shadow falls over him.

"Are you Clint Barton?" a cool, feminine voice says. Squinting, Clint looks up and sees a gorgeous woman with a red waterfall of hair over one shoulder. 

"Depends on who’s asking," he says, when suddenly he catches sight of the lab by her feet. "Lucky!" he shouts, sliding to his knees and pressing the dog’s face to his own. Lucky eagerly licks Clint’s cheeks, chin and mouth, his tail wagging a mile a minute. 

"Guess that answers that question," the woman says, sounding amused. 

"Hey!" Kate says, as the woman turns away. "You wouldn’t happen to have lost a cat, would you?" 

"Cat?" the woman says. Kate opens the kennel door and a black blur rushes out. "Liho??" The woman wraps her arms around the black cat, who has suddenly turned into a loud little purring machine, and turns to Clint. "Why did you have Liho?" she asks, her voice cold and suspicious.

"Why did you have Lucky?" He demands, wrapping his arms around Lucky’s neck protectively.

"Care to discuss this over dinner?" Kate says brightly. They both turn their gazes onto her and she raises her hands in surrender. "Not with me! But you’d be wasting a valuable rom-com meet cute, you know. Just sayin’." 

"Why is there blood on your knuckles?" Clint asks, perhaps the more pertinent question.

"The man who used to own your dog is a mobster," The lady says coolly. "I had to get a little rough with him for information." 

"Wow," Clint says, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans. "Yeah, let me buy you dinner _please_.” 

—

"Do you know what Liho means in Russian?" Natasha asks later, trailing her foot along Clint’s calf. 

"I half-assed Spanish in high school, but that’s about it." Clint says, propping up his head on one arm. 

"Misfortune," Natasha smiles, catching sight of Liho curled up with Lucky at the foot of the bed. "Unluckiness." 

Clint snorts. “Well that is one hell of a coincidence. Lucky and Unlucky? What’re the chances.” 

"Maybe it was meant to be," Natasha says simply, and pushes Clint onto his back.


End file.
